


Date Night

by madameofmusic



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon Divergent, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:45:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5695270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madameofmusic/pseuds/madameofmusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Swawesome Santa 2015 gift for penguinsledding. Domestic Zimbits fluff, as per request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Date Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [penguinsledding](https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinsledding/gifts).



> You asked for fluff and domesticity, and I hope I delivered! 
> 
> Merry Christmas!

Eric Bittle loved his bakery like a child. It had taken him lots of money, and ten times as much time, to get it where it was today. Which, if he was feeling like bragging, was now Providence’s best bakery for the third year running.

But even though he loved it with every fiber of his being, he was still bone tired at the end of every Saturday shift. Being the manager was hard, and at the end of the week he longed for nothing but a hot bath, and a few hours curled up next to Jack on the couch while a movie played in the background, enjoying both of them being home at once. Hardly ever did that actually happen, considering how often Jack was gone for games, and Bitty’s own tendency to flop down on the bed for a quick nap, and wake up the next morning, blinking blearily at the sun streaming in from the window of he and Jack’s shared bedroom.

But tonight, Jack was home, and Bitty wasn’t tired enough to pass out for twelve hours, and he felt like he might actually get to follow through with his plan of kicking back and resting with his boyfriend for once.

“Jack?” He called out as soon as he was in the door, listening for the soft strains of music coming from the spare room they’d turned into a home gym, or for the sound of the shower, anything that could indicate where Jack might be.

He frowned when he heard nothing, hanging his keys on the keyring and toeing off his shoes by the door as he racked his brain, trying to remember if Jack had some engagement he’d forgotten about.

“Jack?” He called again, hoping maybe Jack was just been busy somewhere and hadn’t heard the first time he’d called.

He wandered into the kitchen, the beginning of Jack’s name on his lips once more when he fell suddenly silent.

Because he’d found Jack.

He’d found him standing next to a candlelit table draped in a white cloth, covered with plates of something that smelled, quite frankly, amazing. And Jack himself was dressed in a soft blue sweater, apron still tied around his waist as he looked up at Bitty from where Jack had been messing with the flowers (flowers! Bitty must have been dreaming) on the table.

“Hi.” Jack said.

Bitty smiled back. “Hi. What’s this?” He asked, stepping closer.

“Date night. Sit down?” Jack asked as he pulled out a chair.

“Sure.” Bitty said, sliding into it and looking at the plate. Spaghetti, soaked in marinara sauce and topped with what looked like real parmesan, and not just the powdered stuff that was easier to buy in stores.

“Did you make this?” Bitty asked, once Jack had sat down.

“No, it just appeared. Like magic.” Jack said, small grin gracing his lips.

Bitty rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help grinning back. “Oh, hush. Don’t chirp me. I’m not used to you cooking anything other than copious amounts of meat, and the occasional smoothie.”

Jack huffed indignantly. “I cook other things!”

Bitty laughed. “Of course. You also cook eggs. How could I forget that particular protein?”

Jack kicked Bitty’s foot gently under the table. “You keep chirping me, and I’ll eat this all myself.” He said, picking up his fork and reaching across the table to BItty’s plate, as if to spear one of his meatballs.

“Hey!” Bitty said, batting away the fork. “I never said I wouldn’t eat it!” Just to prove his point, he cut one in half, and popped it in his mouth, chewing slowly.

It wasn’t anything amazing, but it wasn’t burnt, and Jack had seemingly remembered both salt AND pepper this time, along with some other seasonings Bitty couldn’t quite identify. All in all, it didn’t taste bad, and BItty found himself popping the other half in his mouth shortly after. 

“What do you think?” Jack asked, voice turning a bit softer, and a little nervous. “I know it’s not much, and I’m not half the cook you are, but-”

Bitty swallowed, and smiled, cutting him off. “It’s great Jack. I love it.”

Jack’s shoulders dropped, the tension flowing out of them. “Good.” He said, and began eating himself.

They were silent for a moment, each enjoying their meal, before Bitty spoke once more. “What’s the special occasion, though?”

“Date night. I said that Bittle.” Jack pointed his fork at Bitty. “All that loud pop music must be ruining your hearing.”

Bitty snorted. “That or all the head trauma from hockey.” He said, and Jack shrugged, as if to say probably. “But you and I both know Date Night is Tuesdays, so what’s the real deal?” 

Jack looked nervous again, fingers falling to his lap to play with the edge of his sweater. “I, uh, well.”

Bitty frowned. “Is everything okay? The Falconers aren’t trading you, are they? Because if they were, you know I’d follow you wherever-”

Jack waved him off. “No, no. In fact, they’re giving me a raise. But uh, that’s not it either.” Jack said, teeth coming out to nibble on his bottom lip. “Hang on for one second?”

Bitty nodded, and Jack stood quickly, disappearing into the kitchen. Bitty continued to work through his plate, and began humming quietly to himself as he ate. Jack didn’t seem upset by whatever was making him act so differently, so Bitty didn’t think he had to worry yet.

Ten minutes came and went, and Bitty was beginning to worry then. He’d finished eating a few minutes ago, and had been sitting patiently ever since, drawing pictures in the leftover sauce on his plate with the tines of his fork.

Finally, he stood, setting the fork down and wiping his hands off on the cloth napkin underneath it. “Jack, are you alright?” He called, peeking into the kitchen. Jack wasn’t there.

He looked in the living room too, frowning. The apartment was big, but it wasn’t that big. Jack was either in the spare room, or their bedroom.

He peeked in the spare on his way to their room, and didn’t find Jack there either.

With one last look over his shoulder, to make sure Jack wasn’t hiding under the island in the kitchen or something like that, he pushed open the door to their bedroom

Jack was faced away from the door, shoulders hunched forwards, hands in front of him, holding something Bitty couldn’t quite make out. Jack turned around, shoving whatever it was behind his back.

“Eric-” He started, and then stopped, chewing on his lip once more. He looked more nervous than he had before his first Stanley cup final, and Bitty was confused. He wasn’t getting traded, they were only a few games into the season, and there hadn’t been any tabloid stories about either of them lately,

“Jack, what’s wrong?” BItty stepped closer, and Jack held out a hand.

“Stay there.” He said, and then took a deep breath, steeling himself, before he knelt down. “Bitty, I love you.”

Bitty tilted his head to the side, confused. He wasn’t sure if what it looked like was happening was actually happening, and he didn’t want to get his hopes up. “I love you too.” He said, cautiously.

“I’ve loved you since we were in college, you know that, right?”

“I do.” Bitty said, fidgeting where he stood. “Jack, why are you-”

A flow of words erupted from Jack, and Bitty was grateful he’d spent so long around him, because his accent grew thicker with every syllable. “We’ve lived together for a while now, and you make me happy, something I thought was impossible for a long time because of how messed up I was for a lot of my life but-” He stopped for a second, sucking in a breath and closing his eyes. “But I’m better, because I have you by my side. You make everything… easier. To handle.” Jack pulled a hand out from behind his back, and opened a small box to a simple silver band.

“Marry me?” Bitty stopped fidgeting, going completely still as he gaped at Jack. “I-” He could feel warmth begin to gather behind his eyes, and he blinked quickly, to no avail as a tear slipped down his cheek.

He nodded furiously, leaping forward to wrap his arms around Jack. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Jack Laurent Zimmermann, yes.”

Jack wrapped his arms around him, and pulled Bitty tight to him, accepting the frantic kisses Bitty gave him with a thousand watt smile.

A few minutes later, and a few more tears, Bitty was curled up in Jack’s lap, head tucked into his shoulder, grinning as widely as his face would let him, and spinning a new ring around his middle finger.

“You know,” he started quietly, pulling away a bit and looking Jack in the eye. “If you get Shitty as a best man, I get Lardo.” He said, and Jack laughed.

“Of course.” He said, and pressed a kiss to Bitty’s forehead. “I love you.”

Bitty kissed him again, and smiled, dopey and still a little more emotional than normal, but not caring in the slightest bit about anything other than the man in front of him for the moment. “Love you too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Check Please! fic I've finished so far, so please feel free to leave some concrit at the bottom if there was anything you didn't like! Thanks for reading!


End file.
